


Made in Rings of Rain

by sakurakyouko



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Post-Canon, Post-Mockingjay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 03:24:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurakyouko/pseuds/sakurakyouko
Summary: Cooped up indoors on a rainy afternoon, Katniss and Peeta discuss what the rain means to them.





	Made in Rings of Rain

**Author's Note:**

> "heterosexuals? on MY ao3?" katniss and peeta are both bi thank u please enjoy
> 
> title from "first rain" by teen daze

The sound of rain battering on the roof makes Katniss shiver in her moth-eaten red armchair. She glares out the window at the ongoing downpour like it’s personally wronged her and dares the clouds to linger. The clouds are unmoved.

Peeta watches her with some amusement from across the living room in his own twin chair. He thinks, briefly, of old Capitol sitcoms. At a moment like this, the husband might playfully sneak up behind his wife and wrap his arms around her, maybe pressing a gentle kiss into her neck…

However. For one, his prosthesis still does not lend itself to stealth, and for another, startling Katniss is just foolishness. She would have a hunting knife buried in his side before she even realized she’d done it.

Technically speaking, he doesn’t think she’s allowed to have weapons in her possession, but he’s just being realistic. Have the rules ever stopped her before?

“It’s cold in here,” she says after a time. “Can you toss me the--”

Peeta has the soft throw blanket in Katniss’s hands before she can even finish her sentence. She hums gratefully and covers her legs with it. The blanket-- a wedding gift from Effie-- is hot pink and dotted with sparkly yellow hearts. Growing up in District 12 taught them that beggars can’t be choosers, so neither Katniss nor Peeta had the heart to refuse her flashy present.

“So you don’t like the rain?” Peeta asks her lightly.

Katniss is backlit by the dull light coming through the window, her dark hair and olive skin washed a paler shade. Her gray eyes are serious and striking as ever, rendering Peeta breathless. “I used to,” she replies, “but then I had to patch up holes in the roof.” It goes unsaid, but understood, that her father wasn’t around to do it anymore.

The blond nods solemnly, apologetically. Another thing he didn’t have to worry about growing up in town instead of on the Seam: patching up a leaky roof. “Whenever I think of the rain,” he offers, “I think of that day when I gave you the bread. It’s what brought us together, so even if the circumstances surrounding it were painful, the rain reminds me of the good parts.”

Katniss faces the window once more, giving the raindrops a look of deep consideration. “I never thought of it that way,” she responds. “The rain. You may just have a point, Peeta,” she adds with a touch of humor, and Peeta’s heart melts.

“I rarely do,” he jokes back. “It’s nice to win for once.” He glances past his wife through the window for a moment before sitting up straight in his seat. “Oh!” he exclaims with some enthusiasm, making Katniss jump a little. “Sorry. I just remembered a game I used to play with my brothers when it rained and there was nothing else for us to do around the bakery.”

The brunette quirks an eyebrow. “What kind of game?” she inquires dubiously.

“We’d each pick out a raindrop,” Peeta explains, gesturing animatedly with his hands, “and whichever made it to the bottom of the window the fastest was the winner.”

Katniss shakes her head. “I don’t see the point of it.”

Peeta deflates. “Oh. Real or not real?”

She tilts her head, her eyes narrowed as they always are when she’s studying someone. Calculating, in a way, but not coldly. He admires how methodically her mind works, and how organized it is compared to his own. Sometimes he feels like that old nursery rhyme, broken and put back together with his pieces _just_ out of place.

“Real,” Katniss answers. “They wouldn’t fabricate anything that makes you that happy. We can still play, if you want.” She takes a deep breath. “I think Prim would’ve liked it. She liked the rain, too. She said she found it… relaxing.”

Peeta drags himself across the drafty room and perches himself on the arm of Katniss’s chair, squeezing her hand gently in his. “Alright, I pick… that one.” He points it out with a finger on the window pane.

Katniss wordlessly points out her own, still seeming confused, but willing to humor her husband and play along. Her keen eyes track her droplet like prey, but Peeta’s reaches the bottom first. “I want a rematch,” she cuts in instantly.

Peeta shakes his head and laughs, pointing out another droplet as Katniss selects hers. This time she wins. “Best of three?” the blond suggests.

The couple go back and forth that way for a while, but in the end no one is keeping score.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't care if i'm the last person alive in 2018 who cares abt katniss and peeta's relationship we stan love and trust and mutual support and THATS the vibe we wanna bring into 2019 am i right folks. it's 2am


End file.
